


Photographic Memory

by Aurum



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Afterglow, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, POV Phichit Chulanont, Selfies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum/pseuds/Aurum
Summary: "You better not even think about taking selfies now."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm into this ship to an unreasonable degree, considering we haven't even seen them interact. Apparently that means writing about them being ridiculous in bed.

Queen beds are awesome. Getting a hotel room with one was one of Phichit's best decisions in recent memory.

He rolls to his back with a content sigh. The mattress is just the right side of soft and there's enough room to sprawl comfortably over the rumpled sheets. Definitely worth the money and the effort it took to get the bed.

(Okay, so it wasn't exactly a huge amount of effort, but he had to weather a pretty intense side-eye from Celestino. His coach obviously didn't buy the excuse of getting better sleep during the competition, but Phichit only had to smile innocently and wait for Celestino to fold like a card house. "Get some proper rest before your programs, and spare me the details," he said with a sigh. Phichit gave him a hug and mimed zipping his mouth shut.)

He refuses to feel sleazy about it, like he's built some kind of an illicit sex nest. Well, that's kind of true, but not in a bad way.

It's just that it's been ages since he and Seung-gil were in the same city for any stretch of time, and it would be a shame not to take full advantage of the situation. And it's so nice to be able to roll around without worrying about falling off the bed, like that one time in Helsinki that Phichit's not allowed to bring up, even though it was honestly a highlight of that competition.

They've started taking advantage of the bed shortly after they both checked in to their rooms. Phichit's still breathing hard, smiling up at the ceiling as he comes down from his orgasm. He stretches his arms up and lets them flop back down loosely. When he reaches to the side to feel around the nightstand for his phone, it's only to check the hour and make sure they won't be needed somewhere else anytime soon.

"You better not even think about taking selfies now," Seung-gil says from his side, in a completely unfair accusation.

Phichit's aware that his relationship with social media may be verging on unhealthy, but he would appreciate a little more credit. "I'm not!" he protests, turning over to face Seung-gil.

Seung-gil gives him an unimpressed look. Normally it's his specialty, but it's a lot less effective now that he's still flushed all the way down his neck. His lips are pink and a little swollen, and his hair's in disarray, partly sticking to his face with sweat and partly spilled over the pillow. With the evidence of Phichit's hands and lips all over him moments ago, even the resting bitch face looks adorable.

Phichit grins as he props himself up on his elbow. "Well, now I am," he admits.

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. "No."

"You look very good, though! It would be a great picture." Phichit may or may not be framing it in his mind already. Some negative space, so Seung-gil's dark hair looks more striking against the white bedsheets.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but it looks like Seung-gil's cheeks pink up a little more, past the flush of pleasant exertion. "You look good too, but that doesn't mean you need to plaster it all over Instagram."

It kind of does, actually, but Phichit lets himself get distracted by the compliment rather than argue the point. "Aww, does that mean you want to be the only one to see me like this?" He tilts his head and lowers his eyelashes, trying for a sexy look.

Seung-gil considers him for a moment, his face impassive. "Maybe it does," he says finally.

His voice is so flat it actually takes a good few seconds for Phichit to process what he's just heard. He's not sure what his face does then, but Seung-gil's mouth curls up at the corner in reply. Phichit lets out a delighted chuckle and leans down to press his lips against the smirk.

"We could take a picture just for you, though," he says when he pulls back a long moment later.

"No, thank you," Seung-gil says. "I have a good memory."

Phichit pouts. "Don't you want to have something to look at when you lie in bed alone at night?"

"Do you?" His tone is dry, but he's watching Phichit like he's actually interested in the answer.

Phichit makes a show of thinking about it, curling his hand at his chin and humming in consideration. "Maybe I do," he decides. He tries to sound serious, but his lips curve into a smile at the end.

Seung-gil looks pleased, at least to Phichit, who's still learning the subtleties of his expressions. He turns a bit, his hair shifting against the pillow, and clears his throat quietly. "You could just call," he says with what sounds like forced nonchalance.

That's a bit rich coming from someone who only replies to texts half the time on a good day, but— wait. Phichit's eyes grow wide. "Are you offering _Skype sex_?"

Seung-gil chokes on air. "What? _No_ ," he says, eyebrows drawing together in distaste. He looks so hilariously scandalized that Phichit has to laugh, collapsing on Seung-gil and muffling a snort against his shoulder. Seung-gil mutters something in Korean, but doesn't push him off.

"I'm sorry, don't get me wrong," Phichit says when he's able to string words together without breaking into giggles. "If you want Skype sex—"

"Stop talking."

"—I'm totally down for that. Just saying."

Seung-gil heaves a sigh, jostling Phichit where he's still leaning against his side. "We're not having sex on the internet." He's so old-fashioned sometimes. Phichit's working on it, but it's slow going.

He flings his arm across Seung-gil's chest, flopping onto him properly. "You don't even post anything on Instagram. I guess I'll have to google in times of need," he says mournfully. "I should bookmark the search for 'actual prince seung-gil lee' and—"

"Okay," Seung-gil says, sounding long-suffering even when he's trying to shut Phichit up quickly. "One picture."

Phichit scrambles to lift himself up on his hands so he can look at Seung-gil's face. "What, really?"

Seung-gil raises an eyebrow. Each time that happens (which is pretty often) Phichit is too busy marveling at the effect to get irritated. For such a spare gesture, it carries impressive impact. It's hard to hold it against Seung-gil when his eyebrows were really made for this.

"Unless you don't want to?"

"I do, I do! Wow, okay." He rolls to the side to grab his phone, then back to Seung-gil. So far Phichit's only managed to wrangle him into a selfie a few times, and that was when they were fully dressed and made up for their performances. There's no way he's missing this opportunity.

He shuffles in to get their heads close together on the pillow and holds his phone up. It'd be better if he could get more distance, but taking the selfie stick to bed may be a bit too much. Seung-gil probably has longer arms, but it's also likely that he'll just drop the phone on their faces, so a close-up it is.

The camera focuses on Seung-gil's flat expression. Phichit huffs a bit in amusement. "Would it kill you to smile for a photo?"

"Probably," he replies, making no move to correct it.

Phichit sighs, shifts closer still, and smiles brilliantly enough for them both. He takes the picture.

It's only then that Seung-gil moves, turning his head towards Phichit, his lips brushing over Phichit's cheek. Phichit inhales sharply and rapidly taps at his screen, unwilling to miss a moment of this, even if he's also documenting his own face darkening in a blush.

"I said one," Seung-gil says, breath puffing over Phichit's ear. He turns to his side in order to reach better.

He sounds more amused than anything, so Phichit doesn't even bother with excuses. He just tilts his head to provide better access and hums thoughtfully. "Hashtag afterglow," he suggests even as his heartbeat picks up the tempo.

Seung-gil pauses on his way down, sighing against the edge of Phichit's jaw. "No hashtags."

Phichit tries to pout, but it's hard to feign disappointment with Seung-gil kissing down his neck. He counts one, two, three kisses, each one a bit harder and a little wetter. He bites his lip. "Should I send you the pics?"

"Yes," Seung-gil says, now with a sharp edge of impatience, "but _later_."

Phichit grins and lets his phone drop to the bed as he twists to catch Seung-gil's lips in a proper kiss. He moves his hand into Seung-gil's hair, dragging his nails lightly over the skin. Seung-gil makes a sound, almost like a purr, so Phichit does it again, smiling into the kiss.

"How much time do we have?" Seung-gil asks after a while, sliding his hand down Phichit's spine to the small of his back.

Phichit spares a moment to catch his breath and look at him. The flush over Seung-gil's cheekbones is back with a vengeance, his lips are shiny and slightly parted, and he's watching Phichit from under lowered eyelashes. The whole look must be unconscious, but it's all the hotter for that. Phichit is definitely #blessed.

"A lot," he says. "All of the time."

"Good," Seung-gil says and pulls him closer.

They're well on their way to round two when it happens. Phichit's just regretfully abandoned his grip on Seung-gil's hair to relocate his hand south for better leverage, and then his phone vibrates on the sheets behind him. He freezes with his hand hovering over Seung-gil's hip and Seung-gil's lip caught lightly between his teeth.

It's not Phichit's proudest moment, but old habits die hard and the buzzing sound is like a beacon. And it's not like he's actually going to stop making out to check his messages, it's just a second of hesitation. His phone, while admittedly high on his priority list, still loses shamefully to Seung-gil's lips and hands and ass.

He doesn't get to prove his resolve, though, because Seung-gil springs into action first. He makes a noise against Phichit's lips, something that starts as a sigh and ends in a growl, and shoves hard at Phichit's shoulder, pushing him down to the mattress.

Phichit barely has time to exhale in surprise before Seung-gil's on him, pressing their lips together again and pushing his thigh between Phichit's legs. Phichit winds his arms around Seung-gil's back, hums appreciation against his mouth, and melts into the bed.

Seung-gil slows down eventually, pulling back with a wet sound and raising himself up to hover over Phichit. His knee shifts on the mattress, sliding against Phichit's thigh. Phichit sucks in a breath and stares up at him, blinking away the daze. Seung-gil clears his throat, blush spilling down to his chest. "Ignore it," he says.

It takes Phichit a long moment to even remember what he's supposed to be ignoring. He grins and slides his hands up Seung-gil back to his shoulder blades. "You make a good case," he says, pulling him back down.

His phone ends up bouncing off the bed and on the carpet, but that's what phone cases are for.


End file.
